An Endless, Unbroken Cycle
by HumanKyt3
Summary: broken hearts of four characters caused by an unbroken sequence of events. The idea came to me while listening to "She will be loved" by Maroon 5. I don't own south park. I suck at summarys but its better than it sounds. Some Candy and Style.
1. Cartman's Story

**WARNING! IS SORTA SAD! I think there will be four parts to this and you'll see why later. If you like me you'll add me on tumblr because you are all nice people :) haha so enjoy and review please. no end note this time so yay! onward! (Im nerdy and i know it!)**

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><p>I don't know how everything got so bad, all I remember is seeing the crystal tears fall down her pale rosy cheeks and feeling the need to stop them, help the scars heal her. I wish I hadn't. I wish I had just been the typical asshole I was, flip her off, maybe call her a bitch, and walk away laughing. That's what I used to do to people who were upset. It made me feel stronger than them, more powerful. And the more I could feel powerful, the better. All the agonized screams and desperate cries of other people had only filled me with a joy nothing else could.<p>

But once the tears fell from _her_ eyes, once the sobs came from _her_ lips, the stone in me seemed to crack. I wish I could have kept it going, but I'd harbored the feelings so long, I've wanted her for _so long!_ When she came to me, weak and begging for help in her sweet, desperate voice, I couldn't keep up the charade anymore and I let her fall, fall straight into my arms and let her cry and sob and moan. I didn't care that her mascara was ruining my red jacket. I didn't give two fucks that usually I would have been dancing in glee to hide the pain, for once I let someone cry, and I cried with her.

I'm not being fair; I should tell you all the details of that fateful night. God damn she's altered me so much that I actually said I wasn't being fair to people, how one person could change me so completely I hadn't a clue. Anyway, back to the flashback.

_I had been home during a stormy winter night, the rain altering occasionally from rain to snow and back indecisively. Just a few moments ago, a fresh powder had been falling from the sky and now miserable tears fell from the sky._

_I couldn't care less about the damn weather. Mother Nature could just go fuck herself if she thought she was going to ruin my Terrance and Phillip marathon. I laughed and chortled along with every fart joke, enjoying myself greatly._

_Then the doorbell rang. _

"_MOM! DOORBELL!" I screamed to my mother, who was upstairs in her room. I waited a few seconds, then screamed again "MOM!" but she still refused to come down. Muttering "Stupid whore can't get out the damn bed. Fucking slut." I pulled myself off the couch with a groan of effort, then, still unused to my legs after three hours of couch time, wobbled over to the door and opened it._

_There she was, Wendy fucking Testaburger. On my doorstep. Looking miserable as fuck._

_I was about to make a forced snide comment when she said "Please Cartman, just hear me out. Please let me in."_

_I don't even know what the hell possessed me. Maybe it was the TV rays sinking into my brain. Maybe all the years of physical abuse from my mother's 'sex buddies' were beginning to get to my head. Or maybe it was just the hypnotic violet of her eyes, but I actually opened the door wider and allowed her through it._

_She slid her back strappy heels, no kind of shoe to be wearing during winter, off to the side neatly, then took her coat and hung it on the coatrack. Wait? When the hell did we get a coat rack? I always threw my jacket over the top of the couch as I was yelling at my lazy bitch of a mother to make me some damn food. _

_Wendy looked down and I couldn't help the pang that went through me. Only the long haired girl in my living room right now could make me feel things other than anger and joy at misery. _

_I'd always had a thing for black haired girls. They were the sexiest in my opinion. _

"_Uh, what's wrong?" I asked, trying to pretend this wasn't the first time I gave a fuck about someone else's feelings._

"_Cartman, I know we hate each other but I don't know what to do. Almost every time we make a date, Stan breaks it to go hang out with Kyle. I tried to tell him to make more time for me but he told me to stop complaining and being so clingy and Kyle wasn't near as clingy as me. So I went to Bebe and Red but they told me that I was lucky to be dating someone like Stan and said to stop my bitching. All the girls agree with them, so the only other person I could talk to was you. I need to feel something besides sadness, so go ahead. Yell at me, tell me I'm a whore. Call me a hippie, make me mad, as long as I'm not sad anymore,"_

_I feel frozen, looking at her tear streaked face, wishing myself to do what I always did and tell the beautiful girl her face was uglier than my cat's asshole or her pussy was so big she could keep her schoolbooks up there, but nothing came to me. I couldn't do it. Not to her._

_The girl I'd been in love with since before I can even remember was coming to me for help and dammit it's time I did something._

_I reached over and grabbed her arm. I saw her eyes widen in fear and I think she thinks I'm going to hit her, but I do something even more unexpected. _

_I pull her into a hug._

_Wendy just stands there, her head against my plush chest, but then she wraps her arms as far around me as she can, sobbing on me and I move us both over to the couch and I hold her for at least an hour, maybe more. Time seems to have stood still for me thankfully. I'd rather the entire race of Jews fill up South Park than have to face the moment when she'd let go and become my enemy once again. I'd never felt anything so strong for anyone. I'd never felt any sort of compassion and now that I had, it hit me hard and as she clung to me, her misery filling me up, I felt my own tears escape the lids of my brown eyes and they raced down my cheeks and became a part of her rain soaked head._

_I wonder if they soaked through her skin. I hoped so. That way a little part of me would be with her always._

_Finally after the longest time of watching TV and cocoa, she told me she had to go._

"_Thank you so much Cartman. This was actually really nice," she told me_

"_No problem Wendy," then I said something that even surprised myself "Come back over anytime you want or need me,"_

_Wendy's violet eyes, the color of Elizabeth Taylor's, widened so I could see the whites around the entire iris and I was close to taking it back with a mean retort when suddenly she smiled._

"_I'll do that,"_

I should have done it. I should have snapped back at her that she was pathetic and that if she ever stepped one hippie foot in my house I cut her throat out, harsh yes, but it'd save me the eternal sadness awaiting me now.

But if I had, I wouldn't be talking to Wendy right now. Wendy wouldn't trust me and depend on me to lift her spirits no matter how hard mine plummeted. She had always been independent, strong hearted.

She still was, but that fight left her every time Stan fucked up.

Stan Marsh. The athletic jock, the pretty boy of the 10th grade, Mr. Perfect.

To everyone else, not me.

If you ask me, Stanley Randall Marsh, number 38 on the football team as their star quarterback, was just an asshole.

Who else would leave his absolutely stunning girlfriend to be with the most aggravating, irrational, irritating person in the world, Kyle Broflovski.

I think he's had one too many concussions because something fucked up his brain enough to make him want to spend more time with the stupid, skinny Jew than his flawless . . .

Girlfriend.

I hated the way it sounded when I wasn't intended for me.

Wendy gave Stan the best time of his life, but he was running off with Kyle every damn second like he was his life line. Honestly, can't the two 'Super Best Friends' spend a single moment without their head rammed up each other's asses?

They fucking MADE ME SICK.

Their friendship had only increased over the years and now no one said one name without the other. They sounded good together. Stan and Kyle. Kyle and Stan. A sentence seemed incomplete if only one was mentioned.

I personally think they're so gay for each other I'd associate them with Siegfried and Roy.

Which is why I was with Wendy nearly every single night, letting her weep into my chest as I help her and made her my special cocoa, since that was the only damn thing I could make without burning it.

She'd giggle adorably every time I handed her a mug full of it, with a shit load of marshmallows and a spoon dipped into it.

Every single sound, every single tear and smile and touch made me fall deeper for her, and yet all she wanted was Stan.

Stan Stan Stan Stan STAN!

I couldn't take it much longer; I'm surprised I haven't screamed at her about the inconsiderate bastard by now.

I couldn't scream at her now, I was physically incapable of it. I was done, I was already falling over the edge, Wendy clutched closely to my side to help comfort her. Soon enough we would both crash and her precious little boyfriend would scamper along and shove his dick up Kyle's ass like he probably dreamt about doing every night. He probably jerked off at the thought of Kyle, not Wendy.

Again, Fucking SICK.

I tried to convince her every time to leave him but she would just stutter out "I love him, and he loves me," and I'd bite my tongue so hard it would draw blood as to not tell her he didn't love her and the only person who would ever love her the most was me.

Me, I'd be perfect for her, Stan tames the fire in her. He throws water on her to simmer her brilliant flames, but it would leave her cold and empty. What she needed was a person who could match her fire, help her burn brighter than she already did. And I knew that person was me, but I couldn't. She depended on me too much to help her and if she didn't want me that way, my contact with her would be over.

She'd leave me and find someone else to help her problems. She was my wound; my injury placed as though a plate broken by Stan. The shard entered me and even though it caused me pain, I couldn't pull it out, I couldn't get rid of it or else I would surely die.

That's a perfect analogy.

So after school, approximately six months later, I sat in my room, waiting for the inevitable. For once, I decided not to wait for the call and grabbed a thermos, filled it up with cocoa, even though it was summer (She still loved it "Calms my nerves. That shits better than tea") and walked to her house. I rang the doorbell and her mother let me in politely. People in town looked at me differently now. They had begun to see the soft Eric Theodore Cartman. I was losing everything I once had, but I was gaining something so much more important, the beautiful, onyx haired, violet eyed girl who I could only hope would eventually fall in love with me.

Until then, I'd walk up to her room and do the norm.

As expected, she was on her phone, screaming at the person on the other side. The voice on the other side sounded twice as angry as they shouted twice as loud. I just stood there until she said "FINE! FUCK YOU STAN!" and stabbed her phone and threw it at a wall.

"Good thing you have an Otterbox," I try to make the air lighter.

Wendy looks at me with tear brimmed eyes "Oh, hi Cartman, why are you here?" she asks me, her voice hiccupping.

I smile "Just hanging around. Cocoa?"

She grins and holds her hand out as I hand her the thermos "Thanks. You always make my day better," she says bring the thermos to her lips and taking a long sip, ending with an "Ahhh,"

I inwardly shudder at the noise. "Stan problems?" I guess.

Her eyes well up again, in anger and sadness "Yeah, I just don't know what to do anymore,"

I sigh and sit right next to her. I force her to look me in the eyes and say what I've said almost every day for the past half year "Dump him,"

She sighs as well "I can't, I still love him. He's annoying and stupid and an asshole but I still love him,"

I timidly put an arm around her and to my relief she doesn't pull away. Actually I think she leans in closer "Wendy we all love people but this is getting unacceptable. He needs to go NOW,"

I see a fire burn in her eyes and I'm joyful I put it there "Next time I promise,"

I tear up. She's said that every time I told her this. 'I'll do it next time' or 'He won't get away with this again' but he always does and they always stay together through thick and fucking thin.

I know because Stan's head is thick and Wendy's patience is thin, rightfully so.

I wipe away the tears hoping she didn't notice and we just talk. Inside I'm breaking. I'm falling farther apart and there isn't enough duct tape in the world that can put me back together.

So this will most likely be my routine for the rest of my life, me picking Wendy back up every single time she falls and she'll just run back into his arms even though he's done this so many times before.

I'll keep doing this too. I can't let her out of my grasp now. She had her head against my shoulder, taking to me in that lovely pitched sleepy voice, her eyelids fluttering and her nose twitching slightly at an itch. She was too much for me to let go of now. As much as she needed me, I needed her too.

So the next day and the next I'd put myself back through this endless cycle of brutality on my emotions and hope one day the sequence will break and she'll realize I was the one who was always there for her, not him.

Maybe one day, not likely, but that small maybe was all I needed to get back up and get back to being her support while my heart was slowly plummeting to its shattering point.

I wish I could say I hated doing this to myself, but with Wendy lying against me, I know this is all for a hopeless cause.


	2. Wendy's Story

**the second to this four parter, this one in Wendy's tear ladden eyes. sorry for the sadness, but after this series i PROMISE ill write happy. i usually do but ever since my schedule change i havent really been as happy. sorry i know you dont care about my life story, so ill just explain. JUST BECAUSE ITS THE SAME STORY DURING THE SAME EVENTS DOESNT EXACTLY MEAN ITS THE SAME EXACT TIMES! actually i decided to go even later than with cartman and instead of 6 months, went all the way up to 8. I swear if a boy was treating me the way stan's treatin wendy hed better know a smack is in his future! lol but honestly itll be clearer in Stan and Kyles POV, which are coming up after this one. Onward!**

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><p>I'm young. I'm pretty. I'm smart. I have a future. So why do I feel like everything in my life is falling apart at the seams? My whole world began to crash down months ago, when the boy I'm desperately in love with began to change into someone who is now viewed to me as a monster.<p>

Well, that's a little dramatic, but I'm a girl, I'm supposed to be. He's not a monster, he doesn't hit me or spit in my face or bully me or any shit like that, but sometimes, I think it would hurt a lot less.

He doesn't seem to love me anymore. The perfect boy with the perfect eyes and the perfect hair and the perfect body and the perfect personality. Perfect Stan Marsh. He was everything I had ever wanted since the third grade, so why, WHY do I want him as far but as near me as possible.

When he's near me, I want him away. When he's away, I want him near me. It was a tiresome cycle, seeming to be going so fact that I couldn't control any of it anymore. My wheels were turning and my grip on the handlebars was slipping. I was falling farther and farther down a steep hill, and I wasn't prepared,

It all started when he cancelled that first date. That ONE small conversation, that one lonesome day were the beginning of many more.

I remember it way too clearly, and saw it every time my eye shadow covered lids closed.

"_Hey, Wendy!" I turned to see Stan, smiling and holding onto one of his bookbag straps as he ran to me. I grinned when he caught up to me and placed a smiling kiss on my lips. _

"_Yeah babe?" I asked, wondering what he would say to me. What I heard was the last thing I expected._

"_Can we go out some other night? I know we have a date tonight but I really want to hang out with Kyle. I promise I'll make it up to you," he pleaded._

_I was speechless. He had NEVER cancelled a date. I was his priority, his number one; at least he had made me feel like I was. Was I still?_

'_Of course I am! One cancelled date won't ruin that!' I give him an easy smile "Of course, go ahead, we can always hang out another time."_

"_Thanks babe you're the best! I'll text you, Love you!" he kissed me on the nose and walked over to Kyle and they left, talking._

"_Uh oh, he cancelled a date." I spun around quickly, shocked, but when I saw who spoke, I rolled my eyes._

"_What do you want Kenny?" I ask._

"_I don't want anything, and soon neither will he," he remarks._

"_What are you talking about?" I wonder pointedly._

"_I know everything about relationships, I have to or else I can't get the pussy without getting stuck in one. Cancelling a date is the beginning of the end, trust me."_

_I crack up "trust YOU? You've lied to everyone in South Park!"_

_He shakes his head "I know, but I'm telling you, cancelling a date is like a relationship dead end sign. It's warning you that soon, you and him are through." He shrugs and walks away, leaving me annoyed._

'_We love each other, nothing will ever happen'_

I should have taken him seriously. He did know some shit. After a while, he began to cancel more and more dates, and a lot of the time, he never made them up. Finally I couldn't take it.

"NO! YOU PROMISED ME WE'D GO OUT TONIGHT!" I screamed over the phone when he once again, ditched me to hand out with his 'super best friend'. It was beginning to look like a bit more, but I told myself that's ridiculous. Stan's not gay, he's with me.

He lost his cool too "WELL I CAN'T! I PROMISED KYLE I'D GO SEE CRONICLE WITH HIM TONIGHT! BYE!" flat lined.

I called again, he picked up on the eighth ring "WHAT?" he snapped. That pissed me off to no end.

"DON'T FUCKING SNAP AT ME! I'M YOUR GIRLFRIEND AND WE'VE HARDLY TALKED IN WEEKS!" I scream into the speaker.

"WELL THEN STOP BEING A CLINGY BITCH! I MEAN KYLE NEVER BITCHED AT ME WHENEVER I DITCHED HIM TO HANG OUT WITH YOU WHY IS IT DIFFERENT FOR YOU?" he shouted.

"BECAUSE I'M YOUR GIRLFRIEND!" beeeeeeeeep. "DAMMIT!" I screamed, throwing the phone across the room at the picture frame where me and Stan are happily kissing. I grab my pillow and scream so much my mom asks me what the hell I think I'm doing. I need to get out or I'll explode.

I grab my jacket and run out in the snow. It kept changing that night, it was weird. I called Bebe.

"Hello?' she asked. It was nice to hear a voice that wasn't screaming at me.

"Bebe, I don't know what to do." I said, feeling the tears poke the back of my eyes.

"Hold up, I'm gonna put this on speakerphone so Red can hear too." I hear a noise and suddenly she says "Ok go," So I tell her everything.

I'm waiting for a response for what seems like forever in what is now rain. Damn that would get super annoying.

Finally they both said "Stay with him,"

I was shocked "W-what?"

Red was speaking "Honey, Stan is the most popular boy in school. Half of your rep is based on him. You'll never get that good of an image without him."

"I agree." Bebe was talking now "I mean he's fucking hot. Every girl in the school likes him and he wants you and YOU'RE complaining? I mean wow."

I was speechless. I muttered a quick "Bye" and ended the call, feeling my heart rip open even farther.

Who could I go to? Butters was the nicest kid in South Park, but he was a massive gossip. All the girls would probably agree with Bebe and Red if what they had said was true. I briefly thought about Kenny, but passed on that almost immediately. Knowing him, he'd probably say he told me so, then take advantage of my vulnerable and emotional state. Only one other person popped in my head.

Cartman.

'NO!' I told myself. Me and Cartman had a firm, mutual hatred. Well, maybe not hatred exactly, but pretty close. I don't know what possessed me to go to him tonight, I just had a feeling. It's like that feeling you get when you feel like you can tell someone something. Even though he couldn't stand me and vice versa, I suddenly had a need to go to his house. So I walked there and nothing had ever been the same since.

He held me that night. HELD ME. Ever since, he became a different Eric Cartman. He became my best friend.

Okay, maybe not exactly that, but pretty close. I went to him. He was the only person I trusted in my weakened state, which is pretty ironic if you knew his past. I mean he murdered a kid's parents because the kid tricked him out of 16 dollars! And that was in just the fourth grade! But that one night that he showed compassion changed the man I thought I knew.

The man I need every day. The man I need NOW.

I remember when he began to just go to my house, knowing I'd be upset. I'd be screaming into a phone every time he saw me. I probably looked like a lunatic, and that made me self-conscious. But he said this whole mess was Stan's fault, and then he'd give me his homemade hot cocoa and I swear it was like drinking Jesus out of a cup. He made the BEST hot chocolate.

A lot of the time, he looked disgusted just by the mention of my boyfriend's name, and honestly, I'm surprised he hasn't flipped shit on me, but somehow, he managed to control himself. I can't believe how the new Eric Cartman was.

I liked it. I liked it a lot.

But I loved Stan. No, I LOVE Stan, not LOVED. Or is it LOVED? Did I still LOVE Stan?

Fucking emotions. I hate them.

I'm starting to think I'm not good enough. I hate myself. I hate who I am.

I pick up my phone and push the speed dial for Stan to find out if we had a date or not.

"Hey, are we gonna go out or are you going to leave me once again?" I ask sharply once the desired boy answered.

"Don't get smart, actually I'm not. Me and Kyle are spending the night since its Friday. See you in school someday." And another familiar ending tone tore through my head.

I sighed and for the third night straight, didn't go downstairs and eat. I had lost so much weight recently. I can't eat, I can't sleep, and I'm slowly dying from a broken heart. I've been living on Cartman's cocoa for nearly three weeks now. Of course I'd had some other food since then but I could probably count that on both hands.

I'm about to change into my sweats when I catch sight of myself in the mirror. I pull off the purple robe and look at the gaunt skeleton shown. I couldn't even give the person shown a name.

Every single bone was visible, each rib defined under her small chest. The girl's legs were sticks and looked hardly able to hold her up. I went over to the scale on the side of my room and stepped on, looking at the number displayed.

83. I'm only 83 pounds. I walk back over to the mirror and finally look at the reflections face and I wasn't sure I was ready to admit that that was me either.

Her cheekbones were jutting out of her face, like sharp edged stalactites were shooting sideways out of the girls face. Her eyes were sunk in and had sickly purple bags under them and she just looked . . . miserable.

Finally I had to admit, this girl staring back at me, WAS me.

I wrapped the robe around me and sunk into the floor, feeling the misery soak into me and sob into the cold floor, but that could just be the lack of body fat on me.

"Wendy?" I look up and there he is, perfectly round Eric Cartman.

I shouldn't get butterflies when I see him, I should get them for Stan. I'm such a fucking whore. I hate myself.

"Cartman," I weakly reply. He sees me and his eyes, his golden brown eyes, nearly pop out.

He walks over to me and helps pull me up. I struggle to help but I manage to get up. He hands me a bra and underwear on the floor and turns away and I slip them on.

"Let me see," he tells me softly. I don't feel any danger to the situation and so I oblige and allow him to look at my nearly bare body.

And when he sees it . . . he begins to cry. His jerking sobs rack through his body and I realize I did this to him. I made him feel all my pain and anger and misery. He feels everything.

And that sets me off worse than anything could. He helped me in my time of need and I just stab him over and over, mercilessly trying to toss away my feelings to help myself, but what I never realized was they weren't ever leaving, they were just rubbing off on the one guy who actually gave a fuck.

Cartman puts an arm around me, settling on my waist and pulls me to the mirror. You see him, looking terribly large compared to the skeleton that is me. I feel disgusting.

He doesn't scream at me or shout or anything. He just says "See what you do to yourself. He's not worth it. Don't let him win. Why would you do this to yourself?" he asks.

And I lose it, I fall against him and scream and weep into his warm chest. I could never deserve the treatment he gives me and only me.

He hands me a cup of his cocoa when I manage to calm down and he says the same exact thing he always says "You need to break up with him. He doesn't deserve you. You've torturing yourself and killing yourself for him, and he's not worth it."

I choke the same words out that I always do "but I love him and he-"

"DOESN'T love you!" he covers his mouth, looking horrified at what he's just said.

I open and close my mouth. Was it true? It sure as hell felt like it. I felt like I've been falling down and down farther into an empty abyss and now I've finally found rock bottom. The tears are immediately jerked out of me. I cry and the tears pour down the exaggerated lines of my face.

He pulls me into him once again, arms loosely around me as though he thinks if he squeezes me too hard he'll break me like I'm made of glass. I feel just as fragile.

"Wendy I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it." He apologizes and I love him-IT! I meant it!

'No, I think your right. He's fallen out of love with me" my voice cracks and he gives me a pain filled look.

"Eight months. Eight months since the first day you came to me that first time." He says distantly. I realize he's not even looking at me anymore. He's looking off at some place I can't see, some place he probably wishes he was.

"Cartman, are you okay?" I ask him. He looks at me and I want to scream from the pain that's in his shining brown eyes. They hold a misery that I thought only I have. They held yearning for something, and I had no idea what, but I knew one thing, he wished he could have it.

"Cartman?" I wave a hand in front of his eyes. He's scaring me "Cartman! Cartman!"

He finally snaps out of it "Wendy, I know you love him, I . . . eight months since we've become . . ."

"Best friends," I finish. He looks at me with a mixture of joy and sadness and I'm confused. Nothing made sense right now.

Before I can ask he stands up and says "I'm going to made you some food and bring it up here, you should go into bed. Do you need help?"

A flash of my own spirit flashes in me "No, I can do it myself"

I haven't seen him smile so big in a long time.

Eight months to be exact.

I put on my sweats and get under the blanket, holding the cocoa and taking simple sips. I turn on my iPod on shuffle and the first song that plays is Greyhound Bound for Nowhere by Miranda Lambert and I feel exactly like her. Well, pretty damn close. My tears are spilling over as I listen to it. I just sit there and let the melody rip through my heart.

Cartman walks up when the song has about a minute left. He gasps when he sees me and looks at the iPod. He rushes over and turns it off. Then hands me a plate of cut up apples and crackers, which he knows I like to snack on.

And I feel yet another stab of pain at how nice and good he's really been to me. And all I do is put all my misery on him. I don't deserve him or his help.

And I knew he wanted me, just as much as I wanted him, but I couldn't and not for the reason my "friends" had presented. I couldn't give two fucks about my rep anymore, it's because I knew all I'd end up doing was hurting him even more, because that's all I ever seem to be able to do to people, so all of us were, in our own way, stuck on a Greyhound bound for nowhere.

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><p><strong>MIRANDA LAMBERT IS MY FAVORITE ARTIST OF ALL TIME! i love her shes so real and her music is true to country. when one of her songs comes on me and my mama will sing to her at the top of our voices, especially her song 'me and charlie talkin'. i love my mommy :). anyway yeah so no credit to me, all credit to miranda lambert and trey and matt. hope you enjoyed :D<strong>


	3. Stan's Story

IM SOOOOOOO SORRY! i havent updated as much as usual recently because my teachers are a bunch of assholes and decided we need to have 6 fricken pages of homework a nite per clsss! AAANNNYYYYWWWAAAYYY this isnt as much about the Stan and Wendy fighting as the other two, as much as Stan's personal problems. Hope you like and ill try to post another before this weeknd is up! thanks for reading and enjoy adn thanks for reviews, you know who you are

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><p>My story starts much, MUCH earlier than everyone else's. Honestly, probably back when I was 12 and my parents had their final divorce. They had many separations and a few trial divorces but finally, they cut the last strand and it was permanent. No tying it back together, no welding it, no mixing, nothing. It was final this time. Their love was gone, and my own life was beginning to break off into tiny pieces.<p>

My parents had fought tooth and nail for who got to keep us, and I'm surprised I didn't go insane those long, agonizing months. Finally, god knows how, but my father won. I think he bribed them, or sex. Can't go wrong with sex, according to my dad.

Now that mom couldn't control dad, he drank much more, even more than before. I tried to step in, but the first time I did that was what started all the torment.

"_Dad, you drank enough for three people during dinner, I think you've had enough" I warned._

_This angered the drunken man "Who're you tuh tell me I caint have no mo' to drink? You aint mah mama!" he slurred, trying to get around me. I spread my arms around the liquor cabinet, trying to barricade him. _

_His eyes narrowed at me "Move outta mah way boy!" he shouted._

"_No dad! Go upstairs now!" I yelled right back._

"_I SAID MOVE!" and suddenly his fist connected with my cheek and shoved me into the cabinet. My back ached and I tried to keep my stand up, but my posture slouched. Yet I still refused to move._

"_Billy you better get the fuck out of my way!" he hollered. He sounded a lot like his dad_

_I stayed strong, even though now I was feeling cold with stark terror "No,"_

"_You think your bad ass? Heheheheh!" he grabs my arms and spins, throwing me at the cabinets on the opposite side of the counter. I fall to the ground, feeling too bad with pain to get up._

"_What? Too much of a pussy to stand? When I was a boy, daddy used to beat us like this every day. You bet your ass I respected him. Kids these days need a good lesson" and he kicked me in my ribs. And again. And again. And again._

_Finally he abandoned me for the much awaited whiskey. He stumbled out of the kitchen, his foot catching my side and causing him to fall over, nearly breaking the bottle. Snarling at me, he kicked toward me, his thick black heel leaving a mark on my head. The he pulled himself up and lurched away._

_I laid there for the rest of the night, too exhausted to move. I ended up falling asleep and waking upat about 3 in the morning the next day. Somehow dad was awake and standing over me. I flinched from his lingering alcohol stench as he said "Get up and go. And don't mention any of this to you little friends or I swear to god I'll fuck you up," then he left. _

_I ate and walked in a haze of pain, trying to think of a way to cover everything up. I found some leftover makeup under the cabinet from before mom left and coated myself with enough to make my face look exactly like it did before the bruises and cuts. I covered every visible part of my body and went off to school. No one's suspected a thing since._

I was wrong. One person HAS realized something's up, and I shouldn't have been surprised. He's IS my super best friend after all.

"Dude, I know something's up, come on you can tell me!" Kyle begged. I was finding it hard to say no, and the vibrant green eyes pulled me in, but I attempted to resist.

"No, it's my problem," I said, flatly.

"Bullshit!" Kyle exclaimed "I know you're proud, but you can't do everything on your own. I mean god damn does Wendy even know?"

I flinched. She didn't know, she COULDN'T know. It'd break her sweet little heart.

"Alright fine," I sighed. I knew for a fact Kyle could keep a secret. Then I sighed exasperatedly "I can't today, I have a date with Wendy!"

Kyle said two unmentionable words "Cancel it,"

I froze. I knew how girls were; they over-reacted about stuff like that. Wendy would probably think I didn't love her anymore, which wasn't true. I loved her too much to hurt her.

"I can't cancel a date, Wendy will think it's because I don't like her," I thought for a second "Maybe I can _postpone it_" now that the opportunity was in view, I wanted someone to know the hell I've been through these few years, especially if that person was my best friend on this whole planet.

"Yeah that's good!" Kyle said excitedly. It dawned on me he'd been waiting for a chance to ask me about this for a long time, but I always cancelled on him. We haven't been speaking as much as we used to and now I realized how badly I missed him.

After school I went up to Wendy and asked her and she said it was fine after a slight hesitation. I gave her a little kiss and walked away with Kyle.

When we got to his house, we immediately went to his room and he asked "Ok so what has been going on, and don't make any excuses. I want proof."

I heart went cold. So much has happened, so much agony and pain and depression and I was tired of fighting it away, I wasn't strong enough to anymore, so I grabbed his hand, pulled him into the bathroom, and began to strip.

"Uh, dude?" he asked, turning away.

"I'm not getting fully naked, just so you can understand," I told him. I stopped at my boxers and whispered "Okay, you can turn,"

He did and gasped, tears immediately blotting at the bottoms of his eyes. I grabbed a washcloth, wet it, and wiped away all of the cover-up I had slathered on my face, arms, and legs.

He stared at my injured body, even walking up and touching a few bruises gently, tracing a few cuts. "Oh my god Stan, what happened?"

I choked up now. If I told him, there was an immense risk that dad would find out and kill me. I had no doubt in my mind that he wouldn't do it. Something in my friends tear stricken face made the words formulate at my mouth "Dad"

He grabbed me and pulled me into a massive hug "Why- why didn't you tell me?"

Now I was crying "I couldn't, he said he'd kill me"

"Stan if he continues to do this you, you're going to be dead anyway!" He exclaimed.

I squeezed him tightly "Please don't tell anyone" I sobbed. He hesitated and I wanted to scream but then he said softly into my shoulder "I promise"

He helped treat all my cuts and took care of me that night, even bringing me food. I stayed over all that weekend, feeling incredibly grateful for the boy and I wondered why I hadn't spent as much time with him as usual. Then I remembered Wendy. She took up all my time and I missed him so much it started to hurt.

That might just be the bruises.

I realized then how much I cherished my friend, and how guilty I felt for leaving him behind.

On Sunday I said "We need to start hanging out more often again. I'm sorry for leaving you hanging bro,"

He laughed and patted my shoulder "No worries, you have a girlfriend."  
>I shook my head "No excuse. From now on I'm going to hang out with you more often"<p>

I made sure I kept that promise, even though it meant postponing more dates with Wendy. After a while I realized I was forgetting to make them up and she was getting pissed. We began to scream and argue more and I needed refuge from my chaotic drama. I mean she wasn't even worried when I began to act differently, shouldn't she be the first to notice. When she gets rough with kisses and I flinch, shouldn't she be a little concerned? The fact that the color of my skin was rubbing off, shouldn't that be at least a little noticeable? Obviously not. I was beginning to prefer my friend over her.

He was the cool water, able to keep my calm and sane after the wildfire that was Wendy. Sometimes a person needed a soak.

After a while, my thoughts began to transition. I felt nothing for Wendy anymore. She yelled and screamed and was too over-protective and jealous. She kept hanging out with CARTMAN! It was extremely odd.

Instead, my joy only showed its face when Kyle was near me. Kyle's face, Kyle's eyes, Kyle's everything . . . it made me just want to spend longer and longer with him.

And one day I found out the same thing. We were at his house and he was cleaning up my bloody ribs after dad had a little 'session' with a vase.

The movement of the soaked cotton ball he used to clean my wounds were becoming slower and I realized his arm strokes were becoming slower. I stared at him but he kept his head down, refusing to look into my eyes. I asked "Kyle?"

"Hmm?" but he still wouldn't look up. I put a finger under his chin and propped his head up.

"Have you ever loved someone?" I asked.

"Yes" he said so softly I barely heard him.

I was extremely curious now "Who?"

I shivered when his finger brushed my bare chest "It doesn't matter, they don't love me back"

I was near bursting. "And why not?"

Kyle's vibrant eyes connected with my sapphire ones "Their perfect, and their taken. They'd never go for me,"

The mood spiked. I knew it was wrong but I didn't care anymore. I leaned closer "You can tell me who, I don't care"

We were nose to nose and both of our breathing had pitched "No, you'll hate me"

I laughed "try me," and our lips brushed and we grabbed each other's face simultaneously and pashed our lips together in a spicy lip lock.

We moaned across the bathroom until finally I needed air in my painful lungs and I pulled away, our lips swollen.

"Dude I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to it just kind of happened and-" I cut him off by gently biting his bottom lip.

"I think I'm in love with you," I gasped out.

Kyle's eyes teared up once again "but what about Wendy?"

I tried to tell myself that I had to break up with her. I was in love with my best friend, and I felt nothing for her. Our love had been gone like snow in summer.

But the thought of the heightened change in my life daunted me. My greatest fear was rapid change, it could easily ruin the careful balance of your life until it fell over and lost control. I liked the control. I liked knowing Wendy was my girlfriend and Kyle was my best friend.

But the shift that had been caused, I couldn't do it. I loved him more than I had ever loved Wendy, but the _change!_

It terrified me.

"I love you, I really do, but . . . it's a lot," I murmured

Kyle's eyes squinted in sympathy "Stan, I know you. I know you love me, but you're afraid of what people will thing and how it will affect your life. I know your life is perfect and you don't want to risk it. I understand" he stood up and turned away, beginning to leave the bathroom.

My heart nearly stopped "No . . . Kyle, STOP!" My voice cracked. So much was going on and I had no handle of the reigns.

He stopped though. I stood up, wincing from the pain "Don't leave, I need you. But I need her too, not like I love her but . . . I just-"  
>Once again, he understood "You need to be kept level, sane and she's the best person for the job,"<p>

I nodded and nearly saw his heart break in his eyes along with mine "Can we keep us a secret?" I asked.

He nods and he helps me back to his bed and we lay together, his eyes carefully avoiding mine. I knew I'd see an emerald agony shining in them and I wasn't sure I was strong enough to take that. I hurt so many people. I hurt Kyle, I hurt Wendy, I hurt my mom when I forget to call after a long painful night from my dad.

Mom, I suddenly needed to hear her voice.

I crawled out of bed and I realized Kyle was asleep. I grabbed my phone and pressed my moms contact.

After just two rings she picked up "Oh Stan I haven't heard from you in a few weeks! I thought we decided we'd talk every night," she sounded like a normal disciplining parent, but I could hear the pain under her voice, so much like Kyle's earlier, that I wanted to just hide in a corner and stop hurting all the people I love.

"Sorry mom, a lot of stuff happened recently," Like me and Wendy not getting along, Kyle finally knowing my dark secret, and me . . . being gay, no, I think its Bi, girls are still hot, I just consider my super best friend in that category now.

"Hey mom, you can keep a secret right?" I asked. I don't care how many jeers I would get if anyone found out, my mom is one of my closest friends.

"Of course sweetie!" she exclaimed.

I decided to beat around the bush a little, I don't know a single person who would go straight at it in this situation. Haha, straight. "Um, how do you feel about gays?"

Mom just stayed silent, then she spoke "You're in love with Kyle aren't you?"

My eyes widened and I stuttered out "Kinda. . ."

"Stan, you don't just 'kinda' like that kid. You either love him or you hate him, and most people love him. And honestly I always liked him better than Wendy. I always thought he was sort of sexy,"

MOM!" I nearly shouted, feeling my face flush, then remembered Kyle and lowered my voice "You're not supposed to think my friends are sexy that's weird,"

"It's true, I knew he'd turn out cute. Take that Jew look and make it an asset. Anyway How'd Wendy take it?" I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but agree with my mother.

"Actually, I uh. . . I . . .um . . . haven't told Wendy" I heard my mom spitting something out, possibly water.

"What?" She coughed "You're still with her? Stan tell me everything right now,"

"Well . . ." I knew I couldn't tell her about her ex-husband but I could tell her about everything else "Me and Wendy have been on the rocks and I've been having problems and I've been hanging out with Kyle more and it's made things worse between me and Wendy and then we kinda-"

Mom interrupted "Dammit Stan cut it with the 'kinda' shit did you or didn't you?"

I smiled, I love my mom so much "We DID kiss and we told each other we love each other, but I can't tell Wendy because she's what keeps me sort of normal and I don't do good with change,"

"I understand sweetheart" The pain in her voice make my heart and I wish I wasn't so selfish. I hated myself. I wish dad's damn vase had pierced my heart. That way everything would be in such a mess and everyone would be happy. It seems like I've disappointed people since I was born. I have never felt so low in my life.

"I have to go, bye mommy," I haven't said mommy since I was a little kid.

"Okay, goodbye Stan, goodnight, and for god's sake make the right decision. I don't want to influence you, but just remember, the best decision isn't always the right decision," And with that she hung up.

I let go of my phone, hearing the loud noise on the floor of my bedroom as it hit. I knew she wanted me with Kyle, because she knew it would in the end make me the most happy. I don't even know why I stayed with Wendy; there was nothing to hold on to, like grasping for air desperately. Pointless and you'd end up falling in the end.

I wanted Kyle, I NEEDED Kyle, but there was too much change. I've had so much change recently with the divorce and the beatings and the fighting with Wendy, who just texted me asking snippily if we would hang out tomorrow which I decided to ignore.

I crawled back in bed, but when I turned over, Kyle's green beacons were staring right at me. "Stan, you don't have to . . . you can be with her. You can be happy"

I shook my head, feeling myself choke up "No, it's not that, it's just . . . so much change. A lot's been happening recently. I don't even love her anymore but . . . its routine and I need that"

"Okay. No matter what I will stay here for you, but you take your time." And with that, his massive eyes closed once again and stayed shut.

I however wanted to crawl into the earth and stay there. Eveyone loved me so much, except dad but I didn't even consider him a human anymore. I just wanted to make everyone happy, but that was impossible.

Depression weighted on my shoulders, feeling my mood grow more and more despondent. I shut my eyes as well, and somehow made myself able to fall asleep, but not without thinking about how this was just another day in my miserable life


	4. Kyle's Story

**Okay i updated this because guess what? YUPP! as usual, i have a shitload of ideas and multiply that by about 8 and youll get the homework quantity i have. Most likely no updates tomorrow, but ill try because i love you all! lol anyway im debating on doing a last chapter to wrap up the whole drama and everything or just leaving it like this and letting your minds come up with your own ending. If i get three reviews saying to add the last chapter then i will but otherwise its staying like this! Thansk fro reading and please enjoy and review**

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><p>My entire body trembled as I did the one spin and my entire life crashed down. Bruises and gashes decorated the beautiful flat chest and legs. My vision blurred from the tears.<p>

I couldn't formulate words, all I could do was watch as a hand reached down and grabbed a washcloth, then ran it underwater and cleared the rest of his face and every single sign of pain he's been through revealed itself.

"Oh my god Stan, what happened?" I asked as I walked forward and brushed my fingers along his biggest bruise right above his heart.

Yes, Stan, he was the best friend I had ever had, and my crush since, I don't even know when, forever. All I know is when he said he love me that one time everything changed.

"_Stan?" I asked. There he was, right in front of me after we had stopped being friends. Stan stumbled over and have me a massive, overly friendly hug._

"_Kyle!" He exclaimed, finally letting me go form the side and standing in front of me._

"_Hey . . . Stan?" I was skeptical on why he was here._

"_Dude I'm sorry, I've been a shitty friend and I miss my buddy!" his voice sounded weird, but I couldn't place it, couldn't remember who he reminded me of. "You were right, Adam Sandler is fucking hysterical."_

_He tottered away from me and I was beginning to get worried "Stan are you alright?"_

"_Yeah dude I totally get it now. I can see how lame I was, saying everything was . . . shit!" he stressed the last word._

_Even though I was worried I was glad he realized what he had been doing "Really? Stan, that's great." I smiled_

"_Kyle," he whispered loudly "It's all shit! Forreals! Everything's shit because the aliens went AI and you and me are gonna fuck it all up come on!" He swung an arm above him, gesturing me to follow and began to stagger away._

_Suddenly I realized who he looked like, his father "Dude, have you been drinking?" I asked, afraid of the answer._

_He swung back around and ignored my question "You're not listening to me Kyle! Dude we just have to go and do this one thing" He pinched his fingers together and squeezed one eye shut, lurching to one side "And then everything can go back to normal!"_

"_It's too late for that," I missed Stan, but I missed MY Stan, and if he wasn't like he was before, he wasn't my Stan "Things just can't go back Stan," I hoped I was the only one hearing the sadness under the anger "I'm with Cartman Burger now"_

_Stan stared at me deadly, almost like I was the one annoying him "Dude, Cartman Burger seriously? How shitty is that shit?"_

_And that's what ruined us the first time. His shitty attitude! "See there you go again! Look at you dude, look at what you've become,"_

_Cartman walked over to my side, wiping his hands "Everything alright Kahl?" he asked._

"_Yeah, its fine," I breathed._

"_Well I'm going to need some more reminded patty's pretty soon," He explained._

"_Yeah yeah, I'll be right there," I told him. He turned and left, leaving me and my drunken ex-best friend alone._

"_Come on, Kyle, this is about you and me! Remember?" he made it sound like we were a couple who had just broken up._

"_Dude, things around here have changed," I reminded him "Sometimes, the only way to keep going is to make a left turn,"_

_He stared into my eyes for a moment, then suddenly lifted his middle finger to me and snapped "Fuck you Kyle; you're a piece of shit!"_

_I sighed and began to walk away, trying to hide how much that hurt._

"_Kyle, I love you," I turned right back around. Why did that make me so incredibly happy?_

_Just as I was getting close to him he flipped me off once again and said "Fuck you though you're a piece of shit," And I immediately turned back around, walking back towards Cartman Burger._

"_I love you," He said after me. It took so much more strength than I thought I had to walk away and not look back, no matter how hard I wanted to._

Now my heart that had swollen for him so much was shattering as I saw the oain he's been through, and I had done nothing to help him.

"Dad"

I felt the ground under my feet lurch, but either way I grabbed him and hugged him tightly. "Please don't tell anyone" he sobbed into my hair.

I hesitated, not sure I wanted to say the words. This could mean life or death for him, but I knew if I didn't say the words, he'd leave me here alone, so I forced out the words "I promise."

And I kept it, no matter how much I wanted to tell.

That day we kissed in the bathroom was the best and worst day of my existence. We loved each other, but in secret. It was like a modern Romeo and Juliet, and I think we all know how that ended. I hoped the same wasn't for me.

The secret ruled my life now, it controlled my mind and just as I was able to think of something else, somehow I would be reminded of it and wouldn't be able to think of anything else.

Soon I felt it lower my mood and could hardly stand it anymore. It happened often, but Stan would usually sneak over and he'd kiss my lips and my mood would lighten.

But now I felt empty, like I needed to do something, anything, to get this off my mind.

"Kyle, would you go to the store and get me some Windex?" My mom asked.

"Sure," I agreed and left, barely hearing her say "Thanks bubbi," before getting out and running to Target.

I grabbed a basket and went to the cleaning aisle. I put a bottle of Windex in it and began to leave when I saw a pretty little package.

I read closer and I realized they were the little blades you use to scrape off really hard stuff of counters.

I tore open the top of the first package and lifted one out. I took off the cardboard wrapping around it and there it was, a nice, thin blade, shiny and sharp.

VERY sharp.

I grabbed the next pack and paid for them, then hid the blades as I walked home. As soon as I gave my mom her cleaner, I ran upstairs and ripped open this package and tore off the cardboard, more eagerly. I placed it against my wrist, hating myself for not being able to help Stan. I hated my words before, I hated the very thought that I had actually told him I wouldn't help him.

I could have healed him, solved his problem.

I promise are the words from the devil himself.

Feeling the hate spike, I dug the blade into my wrist, not enough to do too much damage but enough to make a seam of blood instantly appear, and slid it up to the crease of my elbow.

Stan had me, I had no one.

I cut again, and again, and again, until I realized it still wasn't enough for me.

I realized what would work and I took my blood coated blade into the bathroom with me.

I took off my shirt and looked at my alabaster torso. I smiled and carved into it, different directions being sliced until I was satisfied with it. I looked in the mirror and the image was backwards but I understood what it said perfectly.

Suddenly I heard a gasp and I turned to see none other than Stan, with a fresh black eye and bloody nose. "K-Kyle?"

He walked over to me and dipped his finger in the blood that bubbled from the cuts and he immediately began to cry "Why Kyle? Why?"

I whispered "It's so much to handle," I looked in the mirror. My tears had dripped off my face and mixed with the blood, causing it to stream faster down my chest. It looked like something from a horror movie.

On my chest, was written in all capital, jagged letters "I PROMISE"

Stan kissed my lips "I love you, please don't hurt yourself like this,"

I spun on him, feeling my voice turn into a wail "You hurt yourself! You let your father beat you and don't let me do anything for you but clean up afterward! I can't take it too much longer Stan it's been almost a year, you and Wendy are at each other's throats every day, Cartman looks ready to fucking kill you and himself, You insist on letting your own dad kill you slowly, and I'm sitting here like the sick bastard I am cutting! Something has to be done!" I collapsed, sobbing into my blood covered hands and a red pool began to puddle around me, Stan knelt down and wiped my tears, not even caring about the blood stains formulating on his clothing.

"Kyle, I didn't know it bugged you so much," he murmured.

"The person I've been in love with since god knows when is getting abused and I can't do jack shit, hell yeah I'm upset, this is agonizing for me. I'm surprised I haven't done this sooner."

I pointed to my chest. Stan grabbed a big wad of toilet paper and dabbed at my wounds "I promise, someday, I'll be strong enough to take control of everything but not now. I'm so sorry Kyle, I wish I could rewind EVERYTHING" He shook as he wept and we cried together.

It was too much, but I didn't want to give up, I'd never want to. It wasn't my style to give up. I was a fighter and dammit I'd fight until my last breath for him.

I crashed my lips onto his and shoved my tongue against his, tasting him frantically. He pushed back with as much force and we wrestled, both of us trying to ignore out injuries but only after a very short time we had to pull away from the pain. We were both coated in my blood and we took off our clothes and got a shower, the water stinging my cuts but I managed to rinse off all the blood and I tended to his and my wounds. When I was done, we lay on my bathroom floor and just sat there, in just our towels "Will this ever be over?" I asked.

Stan looked at me "One day, everything will be happy. One day, this shitty cycle will be broken. Al our hearts and bodies and minds will be healed and all we will know is joy, but not now. If we don't go through all this suffering now, then we'll never understand how the future times are so great."

I looked at him in disbelief. "Don't give up hope. I will always love you, we need to fight together or else we'll fall apart. We need each other, like always,"

"You're damn right" and we laughed, until Stan's cell phone rang.

I stayed deathly silent as he answered "Hello?"

I could hear Wendy from the other line "STAN ARE WE GOING TO HANG OUT OR WHAT?"

Stan sighed exasperatedly "NO WENDY I'M BUSY!"

"DOING WHAT?" she screamed.

"STUFF THAT DOESN'T MATTER TO YOU!" He shouted right back.

They began to scream and I thought I even heard Cartman once and something about anorexia.

I couldn't stand it anymore, I was getting a major headache, so I snatched Stan's phone and hung up, then kissed Stan on the lips.

"One day, we'll stand up to them and everyone, but until then were stuck on this fucking endless cycle." I laced my fingers with his. My cut's still oozed some blood but it was nearly stopped and Stan squeezed my hand.

"One day," His eye looked painful and there was a trail of his blood leading from his nose to around his mouth. We looked like we just got mugged. We were extremely odd, and it worked, secretly.

I sighed. This damn dark night has been going on a year, I was looking forward to the dawn.

But Stan controlled the change, and until he was ready nothing would happen. I'd have to wait until he finally could find his strength.

And I'd wait forever from that, and for him.

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><p><strong>SO YEAH! like i said earlier this will be the final ending unless im told otherwise that there should be a final wrap up chapter. so yeah review for that. I dont mean to be a review whore but i just like feedback adn absolutely love when i do get peopple who say they like my writing so thanks to everyone and especially to my reviewers, you rock :) so bye <strong>


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